


of grace and valor

by Caeldori_Matoi



Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Sidon-centric, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeldori_Matoi/pseuds/Caeldori_Matoi
Summary: Mipha was a gifted healer that could mend any wound... except forone.
Relationships: Mipha & Prince Sidon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	of grace and valor

**Author's Note:**

> **major aoc spoilers**. this one takes place after The Twist, and before chapter 7 (i think)......

Once when he was a young child, Sidon slipped on one of the rocks sitting in the belly of Mikau Lake.

He remembered the water’s clear surface breaking like glass, the current tugging him under with such ferocity. When he had emerged sputtering in shock, he scrambled to shore as fast as his fins could carry.

Stretching down his forearm was a shallow cut. For a while, he had stared at it, as if awestruck by the thin line of red that glided down his fingertips and dropped quietly into the water. When he touched it, the pain flared to life and he winced.

Fighting against the undercurrent was a group of Hylian bass. As he observed their squirming bodies fighting towards the frothing waterfall, he glimpsed something else. Winking back at him from below the pressure of the waterfall, was the silver body of he Zora’s spear.

Seggin made sure to keep the weapons out of the children’s reach unless someone was there to supervise. This time, Sidon thought himself clever. He had made off with spear when no one was looking. Its head scraped along the ground as he half-dragged, half-carried it to the lake.

Surely they would notice the spear missing, and surely he would get in trouble for stealing and lying. His family would be displeased, Seggin disappointed…

The thought alone accompanied with the pulsing pain in his forearm brought tears to his eyes. Nudging the panic that twirled in his mind, he realized he could dive in and retrieve the spear… but the waterfall would swat him as easily as it did the fish.

He sniffed, the cut rivaling the pain of a grievous wound from a monster… or so it felt.

“Sidon!”

Mipha pulled him into a hug before he could fully turn his head. He blinked, fat tears slipping down his cheeks.

Sidon barely had time to scrub them away before Mipha pulled away, hands gently gripping his arms. “Where were you? Father and I were worried…” she cradled his cut arm in her hands, holding it as if it were an offering.

No more words escaped as healing magic danced along her fingers, swirling on his skin in tendrils and sewing the wound effortlessly. A clear bubble of energy swelled over her hands and the pain blinked out of existence. All that was left was a faint smear of blood he must’ve brushed to life with his own hand.

“There…” Mipha sighed, but she did not let go. “What happened, Sidon? You can tell me.”

He blinked at her, gaze falling back to where the cut once was. No one else in Zora’s Domain could heal the way Mipha could. She was special, but Sidon didn’t need to be told that. Nor did he need to be told his disappearance had caused a disturbance for both her and his father.

Guilt churned in his stomach. With quivering lips and tear-swollen eyes, he murmured. “I lost it…”

She quirked her head to the side. “‘Lost it’…?” Mipha echoed.

He pointed at Mikau Lake. “I borrowed it from Seggin. I wanted to hunt.” _Like the Zora._ “And I fell.”

“Oh, Sidon…” she sighed. But Mipha stood, toeing the lake’s edge and leaving the Lightscale Trident on land where it would undoubtedly be safer. She shot forward as swift as an arrow, diving headfirst into the water, and plucking the spear up with ease.

He’d barely the time to observe how easily she fought back the waterfall before she sprung back on land.

“You mustn’t wander off like that,” Mipha said, but her words were not sharpened. She swung the Lightscale Trident on her back and Sidon averted his gaze. That same guilt quickly made its unwanted return. “It’s dangerous, even if you are close to home. But…”

And when he looked, she was smiling. That same gentle smile she would wear as she assured their people with words or healing magic.

“You were very generous, thinking of others. Next time, ask me and we can go hunting together. Just the two of us.”

Relief burst in his chest and his head bobbed in an enthusiastic nod. “Okay!” and he was helpless to the grin that split itself across his face.

As they returned home, he insisted on carrying the Zora spear himself. Mipha obliged, but he didn’t miss the way she would glance behind him if the head scraped too loudly or if he was slowing. It was heavy, but he would shoulder it for her. Hopefully he’d grow fast enough where he could hold it with ease.

Seggin met them at the end of the bridge, and Sidon was reminded he had “borrowed” the spear. While Mipha calmed Seggin’s concern, Sidon held the spear out to him as best he could. “I… I—”

“I brought this with me just in case,” Mipha interrupted. “You’ve always told me it was better to be safe than sorry.”

Sidon’s mouth dropped open, but he said nothing. He didn’t dare.

“Of course, Lady Mipha. Exercising caution is never a poor decision. And thank _you_ , Prince Sidon,” he took the spear, smiling down at him. “My apologies for taking your time; King Dorephan is waiting for you both.”

“Ah, right,” she said. “Thank you, Seggin!”

As Seggin wandered off to return the spear, Mipha looked back to Sidon, who was still trapped in the aftermaths of shock. “You lied—” he said, not so quietly.

She shushed him gently, a giggle bubbling past her lips. “It can be our secret.”

And Sidon found he couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, from laughing with her.

* * *

This was the same bridge where that incident took place. If he looked ahead, he could see Mikau Lake, and further beyond, Lulu Lake.

There was an old tale passed among the Zora regarding their names. He had heard it first from Mipha and could not quite forget the way her eyes lit up. Mikau, a Zora with the blood of Heroes running through his veins, and his beloved Lulu, the singer with a silent voice. Romance never held the fascination for him, but he enjoyed listening to Mipha’s narration.

Did this version of his sister hold the story of Mikau and Lulu as closely to her heart?

He watched quietly as she talked with Link on one of the domain’s great bridges. She looked happy, but most of all, she was _alive_. In this world, Link could be her Mikau.

“Will you speak to her?”

Princess Zelda’s voice jolted him to his senses, and he sputtered out a, “Whu-What?” a pause. “Princess?”

She smiled gently then, eyes tired. There was something else hiding under her practiced face. Later, he would realize that she too was plagued with the loss of a loved one. He’d chide himself for forgetting that. “Sorry,” Zelda said hastily. “for startling you.”

Sidon shook his head, forcing a grin to his lips. “Not at all! Zora’s Domain or not, it’s careless of me to lower my guard while—” _Calamity Ganon terrorizes this Hyrule._ He cleared his throat, gaze sliding to the floor’s clear tiles before returning to Zelda. “Never mind that. Do you have need of me?”

A glance in Link and Mipha’s direction was all he needed to know. “Ganon’s forces appeared in Torin Wetland. We’re to make our way to Akkala Citadel next, but we can’t afford to leave this unattended,” her hands tightened themselves into fists. Thinly veiled frustration lurked beneath her words. “We were so close…”

“It’s not over yet, Princess,” Sidon assured quickly, but he could not uproot the seeds of doubt. A smile could not mend years and years of unwanted pressure. “We’ll quell whatever disturbance lies waiting and move to Akkala from there.”

“We can’t make the mistake of dividing our forces,” Zelda pointed out, taking a few steps towards Link and Mipha. “But if we were to go as one, and if something were to happen…”

There was strength and weakness in numbers; there was a larger risk putting leaders on the front line. His father was stiff with worry and displeasure when Sidon had ventured as far as Lurelin Village to rid the giant octorok. It had indeed been reckless, arriving with only the tridents on his back and nothing more. But a threat so large could not dissolve overnight.

If it were so, they’d only need to wait out Calamity Ganon.

When the flare of blue and white light cracked the air around him, he knew what to do. He had stepped into that wormhole without a second thought, spurred on by Mipha’s voice. Reckless? Beyond doubt. But had he not arrived, the Mipha in this world would have met the same demise as his own.

The chaos waiting in Torin Wetland was the same as the one in Lurelin Village.

Zelda excused herself as she stepped into Mipha and Link’s conversation. His sister fell quiet, asking if there was something wrong. She spoke to Zelda the way she spoke to their people, he realized. Though the Champion’s garb snaked gracefully from her shoulder to her waist, there was little that extended beyond formality between them.

To Mipha, they were allies teetering in the direction of a delicate friendship.

“There’s no need,” Link said when Zelda offered her presence. “I’ll be quick.”

“Going alone would be reckless.” she countered. “Only fools think themselves invincible, and you are no fool.”

Sidon almost found himself leaping to Link’s defense. If one Hylian could cheat death and quell the rage brewing in Divine Beast Vah Rutah without help, then what was he?

His father filled him in on different stories about the princess and her loyal knight. How Link carried the sword that seals the darkness. And when Link first arrived at Zora’s Domain, when Sidon jumped him on Inogo Bridge, there was no such weapon strapped to his back or at his side.

100 years ago, Link held the Master Sword in his hands and fell to Calamity Ganon’s forces… so the story went.

He was in this Hyrule for a reason. No one was going to die if there was a way to stop it.

“I’ll go.” Sidon said suddenly. He was met with unsure looks and worried eyes.

Zelda’s face was awash with disbelief. “It’s dangerous—”

“Together?” Link chipped in.

His head shook automatically. “Having you with me would guarantee victory, Link, but you must stay with the Princess.” At their doubt, he flashed a grin. “I’ll meet you at Akkala.”

It was not Zelda who answered.

“You can’t.” Mipha stared up at him firmly, head fin lowering to a frown. “If you go, then I shall too.”

The protest leapt to his tongue. “But Vah Rutah—”

“—We can’t take it with us. Not yet.” she countered lightly. Without giving him the chance to speak, she looked to Zelda. “We’ll depart at once, Princess.”

Mipha left them both with a smile, eyes shying at Link. Her steps were sure and confident, and Sidon did not see his sister but rather a warrior. A champion. The Lightscale Trident glinted under the shafts of moonlight, and the image of the Zora Spear flashed in his mind’s eye.

His feet carried him after her.

“I hope you don’t mind that I accompany you.” Mipha said. “I won’t slow us down.”

Sidon blinked, wondering if he’d heard correctly. “You could never burden anyone, sister,” he assured. “You’re unmatched in combat!” (It was a lie, and he knew it. Deep down.)

She was quick to assuage his praise with a gentle laugh that rang like the softest of bells. “There are many among the Zora that are stronger than me. But thank you, Sidon. I’ll be relying on you.”

“Of course!”

Had she relied on him when he invaded Vah Rutah through some warp hole? She must have. Maybe it was when they fought Waterblight Ganon until Link arrived, or maybe it was when he rushed ahead to defeat the Igneo Talus. If there was a way to ease her stress or push back at whatever force stood in her way, he’d put himself on the front lines.

He couldn’t be there before, but he could now.

* * *

The water of Akkala Falls held both a different texture and taste. Had he voiced this to a Hylian, they would have given him the most peculiar looks. “Water’s tasteless” they would say, but Sidon disagreed. Salt would sting his tongue in the waters near Lurelin Village while the lakes and falls bracketing Zora’s Domain were always brackish.

Akkala was thick and harder to push through. Froth spat in his eyes as he ascended them with Mipha, breath stolen from him as they pulled themselves to dry land. He could see the dull, autumn mosaic of the wetland’s trees, their colors pale under the night sky and glowing moon.

He wondered if Lake Akkala had some underlying pollution or if Calamity Ganon’s influence touched even the smallest fragment of nature.

“I heard…”

Sidon looked over at Mipha, alert. “An enemy?”

Silence descended upon them. At last, she shook her head, peering at their destination. “No. I simply remembered something. How difficult it is for Zora children to climb waterfalls.”

He needn’t be reminded. A distant memory: Mipha and the princess at the top of the waterfall, Mipha calling down to him, the hesitance that gripped his limbs, and Mipha carrying him up the falls on her back…

Nostalgia swelled in his stomach, his mouth forming around that shared experience—

“But you weren’t like that. You didn’t need anyone’s help.”

“I did,” he was unable to stop the incredulity from spilling into his voice. “It was you. I always had _your_ help, sister. That time at Veiled Falls…”

… _you were there_.

The uncertainty creasing his beloved sister’s face was the only answer he needed.

How easy it was to be swept up in the past. How easier it had been for his heart to believe this world and his own were one in the same.

It shouldn’t have been so difficult to accept. Not when last he’d seen Mipha in his world it had been when she departed for Mount Lanayru. The Mipha that stood before him was just as much his sister as the one he grew up with, but she was different.

Realization seemed to dawn on her too.

And Sidon couldn’t bear to see her distressed.

“Never mind,” he forced a one-note laugh, and he felt the strangest stab of relief at a glimmer of light in the wetland. The four-legged beast with its great mane and red eyes should strike fear, but in that moment, it was an odd respite. “It looks like we have company.”

Mipha followed his gaze. “Yes. We do.”

“We’ll be victorious!” He beamed down at her, knowing that one smile could not ease the pain that clenched his heart. “Let’s be off, sister!”

And he didn’t wait to see if she followed, unable to trust himself to look at her.

* * *

Sidon needn’t be told how precious life was.

Each creature fortunate enough to be blessed by Hylia handled that ‘life’ recklessly or carefully. Taking risks normally shortened their time on Hyrule, but he pondered if playing safely robbed them of truly living. Others threw themselves into danger, remaining unscathed each time until their hair grayed with age, skin sunken…

Then there were people like Mipha. She was never as reckless as he, swift on and off the battlefield. Yet for all the skills she held, it wasn’t enough.

In the end, it was impossible to pinpoint how lives were meant to be played.

He supposed things would’ve gone better if he focused on himself instead of on the sister he no longer had.

The Lynel had roared angrily, grass shivering beneath its mighty war-cry. Bright yellow energy tangled its body like a cord, and Sidon felt the static suffocating the air. He had called out a warning to Mipha, which she returned with equal concern, and the Lynel charged.

He could only remember throwing himself out of the way as the Lynel rained down arrow after arrow. Electricity whistled as the heads were thrust into the spot he’d been standing in. The Ceremonial Tridents locked in a parry with the Lynel’s great sword. He was swiftly thrown aside when it nearly barreled him over, struggling to dodge the point of Mipha’s trident.

At some point, he slipped.

It was a misstep he could not take back.

One second, he had been on his feet. The next, his body was locked in place as the shock arrow struck the wet ground below him. A horrid shock spread through him, weapons dropping uselessly from his grasp. Maybe he screamed, maybe he didn’t, but it was overridden by Mipha’s cry of his name.

The great sword dug and ripped its fangs into his side with ease.

It bore down on him, lips pulled back to reveal a snarl. The Lynel raised its weapon high above its head, moonlight bouncing off the blade’s body.

He couldn’t move. His tridents were too far away, lying uselessly in the shallow marsh.

‘ _Is this how it was, Mipha…?_ ’

A scream shook the wetland.

It was not his. Not this time.

The Lynel bucked wildly, throwing its hooves in a dance of confusion as it struggled to shake Mipha off. He could detect the beginnings of fear seeping into its movements as Mipha drove her the trident into its unprotected back again and again. An eerily calm glare twisted her once-kind face, and Sidon almost mistook her for someone else.

Water burst around them, small geysers erupting to the size of trees. Very faintly, so faint he could have missed it through his conscious-waning mind, was the healing magic.

Even while fighting, she still found a way to heal her allies.

When she was thrown off, she landed on her feet. A loud splash clapped into his ears as she plunged into a rising geyser. A flash of red and silver as she scaled skyward through its body, emerging from the top like a flower bud bursting to life. There was a moment where the spearpoint of the trident looked down upon the Lynel.

She dove.

Agony choked its voice, a horrible noise made by a creature that knew it was dying. The spearhead thudded through the monster’s raised palm before burrowing its three-pointed crown into the Lynel’s face.

The ground shook as it fell uselessly, sword and bow splattering in the wetland floor. Shock arrows spilled from its quiver, but Mipha maneuvered around them with grace.

“Sidon!” her voice rang, and the energy of her healing spilled into him.

The sight he saw upon gazing at her face, was one he’d carry back to his own time.

“Vah Rutah…” he managed, shutting his gaze against the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes.

How amusing.

He could be dying, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He was so cowardly. “Next time… we bring it…” his voice still shook with the aftermaths of shock as he tried to laugh.

“Enough.” Mipha snapped quietly. “Is this amusing to you?”

Sidon snapped his mouth shut. The flush of shame washed through him and he apologized quietly. What followed next was a black wave that nearly tugged him to unconsciousness. He was overcome with the want to sleep, to forget about the battle he eagerly volunteered for, and wake up somewhere safe.

When he looked down, he saw the wound in his side. The red gash leered back at him, glinting around torn scales and flesh. Beneath the cloud of Mipha’s healing, it slowly bore its fangs less and less.

‘ _You’re always taking care of me_ ,’ he wanted to say, but did the memory of him cutting himself on Mikau Lake’s bed exist? Or had he retrieved the spear without big sister’s help? An unknown fear gripped him at the potential answer.

She gasped suddenly, and his eyes flew open. “What is it?” he hissed out.

“It’s…!”

Curiosity gripped him before she could answer. He caught sight of them; Zelda, Link, and Impa hurrying over. He flopped his head back down with a relieved sigh, uncaring of the mud that slapped at the sides of his face. Even here, Link was rushing to their aid.

“Sidon?” Mipha’s voice was quiet, threatening to break.

“I’m fine,” he assured, but found he could not smile. He tried. “Thank you, sister.”

The last thing he saw was Mipha’s worried eyes before sleep took him.

* * *

She was not there when he woke.

“Prince Sidon!” a Zora exclaimed, and he realized he was back in Zora’s Domain. Inside a shallow pool of water, to be precise.

Lurelin Village used cots or makeshift beds of blankets for their injured. Though he much preferred buoying in water, he couldn’t help but miss Lurelin’s inn. He blinked, noticing he was the only one in the room with the Zora. Her scales were a forest green, and a sliver of guilt lanced through him as he realized he didn’t _know_ this Zora by her name.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You were wounded badly in that fight,” she explained, wringing her hands nervously as she averted her gaze. “I… should apologize. We Zora should be there for our prince and princess. Had we fought with you and Lady Mipha, you would not have suffered so.”

He was quick to douse her flames of guilt. “Nonsense!” Sidon said hurriedly, and she started at his volume. “Ah, sorry… Anyway, you have nothing to blame yourself for. I went of my own accord, so the fault is my own. So please, do not let this burden you.”

She ducked her head once more when he grinned at her. “I-I see. Thank you, Prince Sidon… You’re very kind.” Her eyes slid to the doorway. “I should let Lady Mipha know you’re awake.”

“Thank you!” he called, but she if she heard, she did not acknowledge it. “Hm… How strange.”

Even stranger was the absence of the gash in his side. In its place was the thick, puckered making of a scar. It wrapped around his side, smooth white and red scales now bleached a fleshy pink. A blemish, a reminder of his own foolishness, but nothing could be done for it now.

He heard Mipha before she walked in. The blue champion’s garb hung on her proudly, mismatching with the concern on her face.

“Sister!” he smiled as she approached. “You’re—” and the words froze in his throat when she threw her arms around him. He swallowed, unsure what to do. Thawing out of his stupor, he went to return the hug…

…only for her to pull away. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I was just worried.”

Self-blame weighed on her shoulders like a cloak; he would alleviate that pain. “No,” Sidon gave a firm shake of his head. “I should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have made you worry. Or the others. I… I can be quite the burden if I try hard enough.”

Mipha looked less than amused. “You’re the farthest thing from a burden I could ever have. I will not tolerate anyone speaking that way about my brother – not even my brother himself.”

…He wanted to look away, but Mipha held his gaze and he was helpless to it. So he stared back, swallowing past the sudden, slow-growing lump in his throat. Sidon could only manage an affirmative noise and a weak nod.

‘ _But I’m not your brother. Not in this world._ ’

“Earlier,” Mipha started slowly, taking a seat next to the shallow pool. “When we were at Lake Akkala. You said something that I couldn’t quite take my mind off of.”

“And what was that?” But he already knew.

“You said I was there to guide you up Veiled Falls,” she continued, her eyes seemed to stare right through him. “I have… no such memories of that. Sidon— that is, the Sidon that lives here… He has not needed my help for such things. While I am proud, I can’t help but feel a little sad. This is going to sound silly, foolish even, but when I see him, it’s almost as if… he is my own.” She shook her head. “I’m getting carried away. What I meant to ask you was about your memories. I was wondering why they were so different.”

He’d seen the younger Sidon in this time. When he first gazed at him, it had indeed been strange… and embarrassing. He had been so shy, and so… _tiny_. Sidon almost humored the idea of borrowing Link’s Sheikah Slate to take a picture and save it, but that had quickly become beside the point.

Mipha held that Sidon… fussed over him, adored him. If he was in the room when she’d been discussing Vah Rutah, she’d kindly ask him to leave

(the words of war were not meant for a small child)

or if they sat down to dine, he would always be at her side.

A horrible feeling began to fester inside of him whenever he saw his younger self with Mipha. Though Sidon met himself with smiles and words of encouragement, it couldn’t wash away the bitterness that clung to him like his own shadow.

How he envied this Sidon.

Was it even possible to be jealous of yourself? Only fate would grant him such an experience.

“I have a theory,” Sidon started cautiously. “I’m not sure if I can voice it. Even we don’t fully understand the effect of our actions.”

Mipha looked dejected. “I see…”

“But I could be remembering things wrong,” he offered weakly. “My memory of younger days is always fading, so…”

“I believe you.”

He paused. “…You do?” If he was not supposed to speak of his own world, then he had clearly stepped over that line without meaning.

“You’re from the future,” she said. “Maybe it hasn’t happened yet… or maybe there are some things that are different. Things that separate my world from yours.”

She didn’t know the half of it. It was almost humorous if one took such glee out of twisted irony. Sidon couldn’t say he found the appeal. “You may be right, as you often are, sister,” he chuckled. It sounded hollow in his own ears.

There was an awkward silence that stretched its wings between them. The water in the pool had grown lukewarm, or maybe it’d been this way the whole time and he was just realizing it now. His mind was stretched in too many directions; he found it difficult to concentrate.

“In your time,” Mipha started. “How are… I mean, how is father?”

( _He misses you every day._ ) “He’s fine,” Sidon assured, the answer automatic and practiced though the words were never recited before. “Sometimes he gets lonely, but he is still the proud ruler of Zora’s Domain.” ( _He thought you were alive in Vah Rutah. For 100 years, he waited only to be met with disappointment and hurt from the truth._ ) “Though he hasn’t grown much. In height.” ( _We miss you._ )

“And what about…” she hesitated. “…us? Are we still close?”

That was one false answer he couldn’t grab quickly enough, and in his mind’s eye, he flailed uselessly as it was held out of reach. High, high above his head, taller than him, taller than father, than Mount Lanayru. “ _just give it up_ ,” it seemed to challenge. “ _she can’t know.”_

Here, he was treated to Mipha talking to young Sidon, promising to teach him how to hunt, healing the smallest of wounds. That envy began the slow crawl of its impending return, and he hurried to squash it back down. This was his own burden, not something he would lay on the Mipha that was not his.

A false smile that twisted him inside in all the wrong ways, eased across his face. But the words would still not come. He could only nod.

Mipha broke their gaze with a relieved sigh, avoiding his eyes. “I’m… glad.”

“Me too,” his lips formed the words automatically.

Another pause. He was close to dismissing his wellbeing to leave the room, go for a walk, maybe talk with someone else. He still had to thank Link… Zelda and Impa too.

‘ _Their memories are different too. This is not the Link I know_.’

“Are you feeling better?” Mipha asked suddenly.

Puzzled, he nodded. “I am. Is there something I need to do?”

“Well… We’ll need to pilot Vah Rutah to Akkala Citadel… but there’s still some time.” She offered a gentle smile then. “Will you join me for a walk? That is... only if you’re feeling better. I don’t wish to force you.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, standing abruptly that some of the water sloshed over the rim. “That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

Mipha giggled. “Then let’s go. We won’t go far; I don’t want you pushing yourself.”

He needn’t be told it was Mipha who healed him. No wound could reseal itself nor erase the leftover tingling of shock arrows with regular medicine. She probably healed him for piloting Vah Rutah’s sake, but the thought alone was unpleasant and unlike Mipha to heal for an underhanded reason, so he ignored it.

It was strange how similar this Zora’s Domain was to his own. Yet each one held a vastly different history and future.

(“We should be careful,” Teba had said when they’d been given time away from the Champions. “Master Revali and the others don’t know of their demise in our time. Telling them could greatly affect this world.”

And though it hurt, Sidon agreed.)

“You’re… hiding something from me, aren’t you?”

Sidon froze, breath hitching. He was trapped beneath Mipha’s concerned stare. It was one doubt he could not fully soothe, and he hated it. Slowly, he nodded. “I am.”

If it were anyone else, they would’ve protested. But he knew Mipha, even if this one was different, and so the argument never came to light. He’d truly taken that understanding and caring nature for granted.

It was too late now.

“Perhaps it is not my place to say this… Though I feel you should hear it.” her voice was quiet, a whisper on the wind, but to him, it was the loudest noise in the vicinity. “I am not your Mipha, and yet, I would think we share the same feelings too.” she looked up at him then. “I am very proud of you. You’ve grown into a strong warrior and have given me hope for our future. You may be different, but you are still Sidon; you’re still my brother. That can never be replaced – no matter who we are. Even if you are hiding something, it is important for you to remember that.”

The words struck him to silence.

How easy it would be to speak so honestly… how damning it could be too. Being able to walk alongside and talk with his sister was a blessing… but beneath the pleasant packaging was cruelty.

“I… I will,” he said firmly. “I won’t forget.”

Mipha nodded. “I know you won’t. I believe in you.”

He coughed out a laugh. Had she not said that when she carried him up Veiled Falls?

 _Not this Mipha_ , Sidon reminded himself quickly, but found he didn’t care. Not now.

Just this once, he could try and forget about the calamity that hung over this world. He would see their victory through if it meant her survival… and for this Sidon to not go through the same pain he did.

“Thank you, sister.”

No words were said, but the smile she gave was warm.

It was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading.  
> ciao.


End file.
